S. J. Budd

The Knocker

 

 

There’s a knock at the door. Edward lies awake in their bed; he’s been waiting for it. It is not the first time he’s heard it. Every night the knocker comes.  But he won’t let it in. This time Mary wakes up too, Edward curses, because she will let it in. He mustn’t let that happen.

 

“What’s that noise?” Mary asked softly as she stretched out finding a more comfortable sleeping position.

 

“It’s nothing I’ll go check it out.” Edward offered reluctantly.

 

The dark night was thick with that fog again. He trembled in his bed, the same bed that had once belonged to Johnny.  No one knew where the fog had come from. It was the wrong time of year the fisherman said. Edward knew.

 

It has been six months and one day since he became a married man. He was happily married but she would never be. Mary had settled with her choice and Edward had been too greatly rewarded. He promised to protect her. He’d never go back on that promise, not after what he’s done

 

But he’s sorry, inside is more regret than any man can endure. For people like him living life from breath to breath, meal to meal, sunrise to sunset. His only instinct was for survival; and that’s what he did. But the price was too high and it wasn’t even him that had paid.

 

He slipped downstairs, and out into the parlour. He checked all the locks and bolts he had added recently to the heavy door.

They’re all still intact, but it made no difference against keeping the outside from getting inside.

 

There was another knock.

 

Edward jumped away from the door. They were separated only by the thickness of wood that the little door afforded.

 

 “Go now Johnny, there’s nothing here for you now.” Edward’s voice struggled.

 

The response was a slow scratching tease followed by another knock. Edward took a step back to stand by the smouldering fire. He placed a cloth over his nose and mouth and screamed into it.  There was that same putrid smell that wrinkled his nose and stung his eyes. It was like the smell of a plague reaching out to snare and snatch. In its trail followed the stench of all the deaths it had silently gathered.

 

“Look Johnny I made good on my promise. I married Mary as you asked, I took on your wife, and I don’t love her. I’ll protect her always. “

 

There was no response. Outside, beyond the door, the cold air endured and penetrated, bringing a slight current of cold air slowly seeping in through the cracks of the old heavy wooden door.

 

“I did as you asked. Please go away from here and never come back.”

 

Edward heard heavy footsteps slowly retreat, but it wasn’t the end of it. The knocker kept on coming. Every night it came, always in the darkest hour of the night when the veils between here and there were at their thinnest.

 

Once silence resumed he shuffled his tired feet up through the narrow staircase. Each night it seemed narrower, the ceilings lower. He was trapped in the tiny cottage, despite the magistrate decreeing him a free man.

 

Mary, his bride, was waiting upstairs. He came back to bed and got under the covers.

 

“It was just Thomas, on his way back from the pub, I told him it was too late to call.”

 

Mary smiled and turned over, “Johnny was always down The Dancing Goose, the things they got up to,” she grew sad and wiped away a stray tear.  Edward reached out to take her hand, but she recoiled from him.

 

“He was set up, my Johnny. I know it in my heart.” Every day she brought this up.

 

“Oh Mary, I wish it weren’t true, but he did it, got caught, and now he’s dead.”

 

“Stop saying that. I still can’t believe he’s truly gone.”

 

“It’s alright Mary, you have a good cry. I’ll take care of you now. You’ve nothing to worry on that front.” Edward sighed with resignation his words made no difference to her suffering.

 

“He was a good man, my Johnny.”

 

“I know Mary.” He had been a better man than Edward.

 

“Do you remember when we saw him that morning before he was hanged? He made you promise that you’d marry me the very next day and look after me.” She smiled, “Not many men would do that.”

 

“Oh Mary, how could I forget?”  That was the last time he had spoken with Johnny, his dear best friend. Unfortunately Johnny was too trusting, he never once suspected him.

 

“But did you know that he made me promise to look after you also? He said watch over Edward, because he’s the best friend anyone could ever have. Make sure he gets hot meals inside him and clean sheets at night.” She smiled and stroked his hair.

Edward looked down ashamed.

 

“Oh Mary, his are hard shoes to fill. It’s going to be tough but I’ll do the best I can.”

 

“You have no need to worry,” Mary squeezed his hand tight, “Because he made a promise of his own.”

 

Edward swallowed hard as his stomach began to freeze over.

 

“Oh he did, did he?” He tried hard to sound innocent and good, not wanting to give anything away.

 

“Yes he did, that he’d come back and watch over us, make sure we’re safe.”

 

“It’s late we should sleep now, before morning comes.”  But Mary had other plans.

 

“So do you think he’s come back?” Mary asked excitedly.

 

“No,” Edward answered too soon, too abruptly.

 

“Edward?” Mary sat up, she had no intention of going to sleep now, Edward pretended to be asleep but she shook him until he turned back round.

 

She couldn’t help but notice how pale he looked and that he shivered despite the heat.

 

“Edward what’s wrong, are you ill?” He made no answer at first.

 

“What do you want? I’m tired and wanting to sleep.”

 

“It was him, wasn’t it? He’s come knocking.”

 

“No I told you it was Thomas.” He said hoping it would be the end of it.

 

“But I saw him,” Mary claimed, Edward froze and began to sweat. She smiled now, like a cat playing with its mouse.

 

“You saw him? What did you see?”

 

“Next time he knocks I’m going to let him in,” she winked.

 

“No! You can’t Mary, you just can’t.”

 

“Why not,” her eyes narrowed, “Why not Edward?” She continued, growing angry. Slowly she shuffled away from him. For the last six months she had been asking many questions about Johnny and the circumstances that lead to his death.  Tonight she wanted all her answers.

 

“It’s not right, he won’t be the same.” How could things ever be the same after what he had done? He had broken all the sanctified tenets of friendship. What would Johnny have to say to him now? Johnny had anger like a flame that struggled to take hold, but once the wick had slowly ignited it would burn hot and slow.

 

“I want to see him.” She got up and wrapped her shawl around her.

 

Edward followed swiftly, “Stop I command you.”

 

“Command me? You don’t get to command me! You’re hiding something and if you won’t tell me I’ll find out from Johnny.”

 

Suddenly she was standing by the door of the bedroom with intent.  They eyed each other cautiously before Mary took her chances and ran. Edward was fast upon her. He needed to catch her before she made it to the door. In the darkness he reached out and grabbed whatever he could. As he took hold he fight her struggle against him before hearing a large crashing sound, followed by silence.

 

“Mary?” He ran down the length of the stairs, “Are you alright?”

 

The knocking had come back, the loudest it had ever been. Now it made the house shudder, it was threatening now.  He couldn’t help but cry when he found Mary slumped at the foot of the stairs. With his help she got up slowly. This is what he had been driven to, he felt like a shell of a man. With his own hands he had hurt the wife of his best friend.

 

“I’m so sorry Mary.” She slapped him hard across the cheek.

 

“What for?” She demanded regaining control.

 

He knew she was no fool, that this time would come eventually. Edward had hoped that he could have served his penance in the time it took for her to realise the truth. Edward had run out of time.

 

“I told them how to catch Johnny poaching on Treggin’s land. I had to; else they would have hung me. What choice did I have?”

 

Mary slapped him again on the other cheek, harder this time. Her eyes turned feral, within something had changed. She would not show him clemency or forgiveness.

 

“You killed him! And then you took his place. You could never replace him.” She paced quickly up and down the parlour, growing increasingly angry. He feared what was going on in her thoughts.

 

The knocking grew deafening, Edward dropped to his knees grabbing unsuccessfully at Mary’s shirts. The shutters on the windows shattered and trembled as they too bowed down to the Knocker’s might.

 

“I’m sorry,” Edward screamed, fighting to be heard.

 

“How long has he been knocking?” She stopped and stared down at him with unreadable eyes.

 

“Ever since we wed. He never comes in, he only knocks.”

 

“He wants your blood Edward!” She teased him pulling at his hair.

 

“Don’t let him in, he can’t get in, I’ve checked. Look what’s done is done; let me make amends by looking after you. He’s gone now” Edward pleaded his eyes now closed.

 

“I want Johnny to look after me. He’s never gotten in before, because he said he would only come back if I asked him too.”

 

Mary goes to the door, carefully sliding across every steel bolt, unlocking every lock “Johnny my love, come back to me forever and always.”

 

She opens the door wide and smiles at what she sees. Edward screams feeling an unexplained tightness in his chest.

 

“He’s knocking for you Edward.”

 

 

 

Before developing a passion for writing S.J.Budd attended Kent University in Canterbury, UK and gained a BSc (Hons) in Biochemistry. She has worked a variety of jobs ranging from teaching to financial compliance in London, where she now resides.

 

As well as reading and writing her hobbies include brewing alcohol. Her personal favourites are mead, mint liqueur and dandelion wine. She’s attempted to learn to juggle but instead has chosen to stick with spinning poi and hula hooping.

 

Originally born in Cornwall, south west England, her childhood was surrounded by myths and legends and she has always been fascinated by anything out of the ordinary. It was in this strange and noble land where she developed a passion for writing.

 

She loves writing short stories exploring dark fictional worlds and its mysterious inhabitants, and is currently working on her first novel. Her day job involves working as journalist for www.findahood.com and she also blogs on her site http://www.sjbudd.co.uk

 

Her work has appeared in Sanitarium Magazine, Siren’s Call Publications, Deadman’s Tome, Innersins, Bewildering Stories, and now, DM.